Scars
by GoddessofShadow
Summary: After Loki is captured by the Avengers he is forced to live out a mundane life on Midgard as punishment, stripped of his powers and immortality. But when Loki meets twenty-one year old literature student Findabhair /Finevere/ he finds her infuriatingly unlike the other humans, and he intends to figure out why. Perhaps mundane life won't be quite so boring.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: New Loki story! Please leave a review and tell me what you think.**

He shoved his hands in his coat pockets as he walked through the park, dragging his feet through the grass as he inhaled the frigid air.

Earth was vastly unlike Asgard, in way of people, and weather, and clothing, but mostly in personality. The mind set of humans was much simpler.

Loki smiled in childlike amusement as he sighed, causing his breath to rise in a cloud of fog, disappearing as it drifted upward.

He found life on Earth utterly boring, especially stripped of his power and forced to live out a mundane existence.

Loki still managed to cause mischief but it was much more juvenile without magic, they were just tricks children would play on one another.

Scanning over the park he saw the typical people, a woman and man walking with a dog, a woman in business attire on the phone and drinking coffee, a man playing Frisbee with his dog, a young couple holding hands and kissing, a family, two brothers.

Then there was a girl sitting on a bench holding a cup of Starbucks coffee in one hand and a black leather bound book in the other.

She had shiny sable hair that hung in her face in loose waves framing her sharp, angular face. High defined cheekbones, a strong, lean jaw, wolf like eyes the color of aquamarine lined in onyx lashes, a bow shaped upper lip, and full lower lip the color of blood. She was lean and shapely at the same time, tiny waist, good sized chest and slender legs, and long, elegant fingers adorned by multiple golden rings that turned each yellowing page with great care.

The girl was young, twenty-one, maybe twenty-two, and she was utterly stunning, beautiful in a strong, enchanting kind of way, unlike Midgard's typical round faced, doe eyed, big lipped, blond haired beauties. They were pretty, but not stunning or memorable, just pretty.

She was there almost every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, drinking a cup of coffee and reading from one book or another. This week it was the black leather book.

The woman intrigued him. She didn't _need_ to be with someone like most humans did; she was content on her own. Men would come and talk to her and she was polite and conversational but dropped hints she wasn't interested.

Without really thinking he had started walking towards and hesitated for a moment, stopping midstride and blinking over at her.

She didn't seem to notice, too wrapped up in whatever it was she was reading this week, or she was pretending not to notice at least.

He continued his steady, long-legged stride over to her, sitting down on the opposite edge of the bench, glancing over at the book.

_Edgar Alan Poe: Short Stories_ was inscribed in silver along the front and spine of the book, though it was begin to fade on the spine from being bent and cracked and folded.

Loki had read a few of the man's stories. They were dark and strange and he rather enjoyed them, and he found himself glancing over at the page she was open to.

"Are you an Edgar Alan Poe fan?" She asked suddenly, turning to look at him and he blinked startled, feeling heat rush to his face as he realized he was leaning towards her trying to see what she was reading.

He quickly shifted back, straightening and clearing his throat, running a hand through his hair that desperately needed to be cut.

"As of a few weeks ago," he managed to recover and she nodded, giving a slight smile as she looked him over.

He was handsome, all angles and shadows. His eyes were stunning, a pale sea foam green, with a melancholy glaze. He was English by his accent, and his voice was strangely entrancing to listen to, deep, and sultry, and captivating.

"What's your favorite story by him?" She asked, and he was surprised by the fact she seemed genuinely interested.

"Masque of the Red Death, I would have to say," he had to think about it, the story had caught his interest, and it was the first to come to mind.

"Mine too! Though my teachers rather ruined it," she sighed brushing her hair out of her face, "I'm studying world literature and poetry. I like to pleasure read, but in class all I hear is symbolism here, there, in this and that."

Loki raised an eyebrow finding an amused tug on the corner of his mouth as she waved her hand back and forth as she spoke.

"You're in college then?" He asked, he was fairly familiar with human ways, and school had always been an interesting concept to him.

"Yes, my third year, I won't miss it," she sighed, looking up at the clear, crisp winter sky and Loki noticed she had a scar on her lip.

It was light and followed the line from the arch of her lip to her nose, her bottom lip was scarred in multiple places as well but it was hard to tell unless you were close, and there was a fading scar along her left cheek.

He wondered why she had the scars, who had given them to her; her fingers were lightly scarred as well, faded burn marks.

"Take a picture," she said snapping him out of his thoughts and he blinked up at her as she stood, closing her book with a clap, "it'll last longer."

He gaped at her as she smirked and walked away, her heeled black boots tap-taping gently on the concrete as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

_What's the matter, silver tongue turned to lead?_

Loki slumped back on the bench, running a hand through his hair as he watched her disappear around a corner.

She was certainly not like any other human he had met before. She turned him into some bumbling clueless fool, and she was infuriatingly unusual, and frustratingly beautiful.

She was a challenge, and Loki rather enjoyed challenges. Almost as much as he enjoyed mischief, maybe mundane life wouldn't be as boring as he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki frowned as he walked down the sidewalk, kicking a small rock as he shuffled down the street, groups of people parting to walk around him.

He hadn't even asked for her name, he'd barely said a word. He had simply sat, stared, and wondered looking like an idiot.

A small flake fell on his nose and he looked up at the gray sky, his hair flying madly about his face as the wind picked up.

Soft, and cool, and light he let a few more snowflakes land on his face before turning and walking to a café up ahead.

He was hit by a wall of warm air, quiet music, and soft words shared over steaming cups of coffee and in some cases tea as he opened the door and quickly stepped inside.

Discreetly he made his way over to a small booth in the corner, pulling off his black leather jacket and dropping it in the empty spot beside him, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

The bell chimed indicating the door had been opened and a man and woman walked in side by side, holding hands and giggling together.

Loki blinked at the man, who did he remind him of? Brown neat curls beginning to grey, glasses resting on the middle of his nose, big brown eyes, and a crooked kind of grin.

It was the doctor, Banner, or it looked like the doctor at least. He leaned his head back again and frowned, drumming his fingers in his lap.

He had never thought much about the Avengers and their lives outside of well, the Avengers. It seemed odd, to picture Bruce with a woman, laughing, and holding hands.

"Have a nice day!" Loki blinked his eyebrows bunching together as he heard the soft female voice from behind the counter.

He looked up and grinned slightly. The woman from the park stood behind the counter, her sable waves pulled away from her face in a loose pony-tail. Like everyone else that worked there she wore a white collared polo shirt, black skinny jeans, and a pair of red shoes he recognized people wearing called TOMS.

"Hey Fin what are you doing after work today?" A petite, pixie like woman with short spikey hair asked, leaning back against the counter beside the girl.

"Studying, this literature class is killing me. I used to like reading, now I read for pleasure and my subconscious starts thinking, is that symbolism for the weakness of mankind? Is that tree ancient for a purpose? Is the protagonist brunette instead of blond because of world war one?" She groaned leaning her elbows on the counter and holding her head in her hands, "my head is going to explode."

The pixie like woman giggled and placed a hand on Fin's shoulder, giving it a gentle pat, "well try to wait till you're out of the café will you? I don't think customers would appreciate brain on the walls."

"Sure thing Lynn thanks for the support," Fin mumbled into her hands and Lynn giggled again, running a hand through her hair.

"I don't get it, why does everything in literature have to be symbolism? If the author uses an oak tree instead of a, I don't know, pine tree, its symbolism. Maybe the other doesn't like pine trees, maybe he thinks they're too… piney," Fin ranted quietly, straightening to look over at the woman who stood about four inches shorter than her.

"You should come see a movie with me and Nate, you need a break Finny, I've never seen you this stressed," Lynn smiled shaking her head and crossing her arms.

"… I haven't seen a movie in a while, I wonder if I'll do the same thing. Oh God I hope not, that will forever ruin movies. This class has ruined reading and now it's going to ruin movies? My life is nothing without those," Fin fake sobbed, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face.

"You need a boyfriend," Lynn chuckled then blinked, jumping slightly, "Finny you need a boyfriend! That would so be good for you right now!"

"Lynn you've tried to set me up before, with uh, who was it, _Fritz_. How did you even meet someone named Fritz?" Lynn giggled again giving Fin a playful shove and she smiled.

"That was one time, thankyouverymuch," Lynn tapped Fin on the nose with her index finger then jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, "the guy in the corner isn't bad. He looks like someone from a book you would read."

Fin glanced in the direction Lynn was pointing and she blinked at him. Long black hair, alabaster skin, his head tilted back and eyes closed, his lashes casting strange shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

She made a slight squeaking sound, grabbing Lynn's arm and shaking her rather roughly, "I talked to him in the park yesterday!"

"Perfect then you've already broken the ice!" Lynn grinned and Fin glanced back over at him, biting her bottom lip.

He had pulled off his leather jacket and was working off his green and gold scarf, leaving him in a white t-shirt, medium color blue jeans, and black boots. He was tall and lean, and she felt her cheeks burn as he ran a hand through his raven hair.

"N-n-no! I used the 'take a picture' line! I can't talk to him now," Fin stuttered, her tongue feeling suddenly foreign in her mouth.

"You-… seriously? That's so awesome you have no idea," Lynn grinned widely following Fin's gaze over to the man as he seemed deep in thought, chewing on his bottom lip, "Fin go talk to him, you're practically drooling over him."

"Okay I am _not_ drooling over him, and I'm not going to go talk to him, I'm working," Fin tried, tossing her head and flipping her hair out of her face dramatically.

"You're such a loser," Lynn laughed glancing over at the man in the corner then back at Fin, "you guys would have really pretty kids."

Fin let out a strange growl mixed with a sigh and dropped her head onto the counter in defeat and Lynn sniggered.

"Your shift is over drama queen," Lynn smiled and Fin bolted upright, looking down at the clock on the monitor in front of her.

"Thank God," Fin breathed grabbing her red hooded leather jacket and shrugging it on, sliding her Indian looking over the shoulder bag, "I don't think I can handle your scheming any longer you freak."

"Get outta' here," Lynn smiled and Fin chuckled waving her keys melodramatically as she walked towards the door.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Fin smiled pushing open the door and calling back over her shoulder, "peace out, girl scout!"

Loki watched her leave out of the corner of his eye and slowly stood sliding on his jacket and scarf and walking outside, watching Fin walk down the sidewalk to a lipstick red VW bug.

He started walking her way, watching as she rummaged through her bag and groaned, turning and suddenly stepping onto the sidewalk.

Loki tried to stop but they collided mid-stride, and he quickly reached out, grabbing her arms as she began to stumble backwards.

"I'm terribly sorry," he breathed and she laughed good naturedly, brushing her hair out of her face as she blushed.

"It's alright, I'm such a cl-" She blinked up at him her face turning red and her mouth closing with a snap, her eyes going wide.

"Oh my gosh," she breathed taking half a step back and stopping, "are you stalking me?" She asked rather seriously and his eyebrows shot up almost comically.

"No, but I happen to keep running into you. Are you stalking me?" He retaliated and her jaw dropped, then closed then opened as she grasped for words.

"No, I most certainly am not," she finally managed, straightening her jacket and tucking her loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Then we agree we keep running into one another by… coincidence?" Loki offered, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Right," she said slowly, looking up at him through narrowed eyes as he grinned down at her, "what's your name?"

"Loki," he said and a look of confusion crossed her face and she nodded slowly, as if letting it register, tapping her chin with her index finger.

"Loki, as in, low-key, that's… unique," she shrugged then rolled her eyes, "I guess I can't really say much. I'm Findabhair, but people call me Fin."

"Well Findabhair, it is a pleasure to officially meet you," he smiled and she swallowed, nodding and looking away.

He started to walk away, shoving his hands in his pockets then stopped and called back, "Will you be at the park on Friday?"

"Always," she called back as she made her way back to the café to retrieve whatever she had left there, and tell Lynn what just happened.

"I'll see you on Friday then Fin," he grinned, flashing a crooked show of flawless pearly whites and turned on his heel, walking off with his long, flawless stride.

"Holy crap," she breathed, pressing the heel of her hand against her head and closing her eyes before running back down the sidewalk.


	3. Chapter 3

When Loki arrived at the park Fin wasn't exactly waiting for him but she was exactly where she always was.

Her hair had been pulled back into a messy bun with a few loose waves hanging down, framing her face as she read over the Edgar Alan Poe book, a cup of coffee resting on the bench beside her.

She wore a white coat with black and silver buttons, a gray V-neck long sleeved shirt, a deep red scarf, a matching red tight fitting skirt, black tights, and knee high black leather boots. She also wore a pair of black, square framed glasses that looked awfully cute on her.

She reached across herself picking up her coffee and sipping it carefully, and then lowering it back down beside her, yawning and crossing her legs.

He sat down beside her and she smiled rather sleepily up at him, rubbing her eyes and yawning again, which made Loki want to yawn but he pushed it aside.

"Someone looks tired," he smiled and she stifled another yawn, leaning her head back and sighing. Loki watched as her breath rose and went up and up until it disappeared.

"Literature doesn't sleep," she said, rolling her head back upright and closing the book in her lap taking another sip of coffee.

"Why did you choose to study literature?" He asked glancing over and her as she rested the coffee in her lap.

"I don't know, I used to like reading, and then I started studying it" she shrugged looking over at him and felt herself blush.

He was staring at her in a rather strange way, like, he was trying to figure her out and it just was not happening.

"You have a lot of scars," he whispered and she immediately went cold, her hand going to the fading scar under her eye and then realizing her hands were just as scarred.

"Yeah, uh listen it was nice talking, I have to go," she rushed, standing quickly and walking off, hugging her book to her chest.

Loki blinked gaping after her once again as she walked away from him but this time he leapt up and chased after her.

"Findabhair wait," he called, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder and she froze going ridged under his touch, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

"Just don't ask about them okay?" She sighed turning around to look at him through her lashes, "because I don't plan on talking about them."

"Okay no scars," he agreed. She wasn't making trying to figure her out very easy. Though he now knew there was a sensitive spot behind the scars, which he intended to find out.

He hadn't meant to step so close to her but he was only a couple inches away, looking down to meet her eyes as she stood almost exactly a foot shorter than him.

She smelled of red pear, vanilla, and musk, a light airy, yet intoxicating scent. And her breath was warm and soft and smelled of whip cream, coffee, cinnamon, and pumpkin.

Fin blushed up at him and he smiled. She was maddeningly beautiful; her porcelain cheeks flushed a soft pink, her lips red and full, and her stunning icy eyes slightly wide with embarrassment.

"So," she cleared her throat taking a step to the side, "Would you like to walk, since we're already up?" She asked glancing up at him.

"I would love to," he smiled and she nodded, starting off and he matched her stride, long, not quite as long as his, smooth, light, and measured, moving just slightly faster than a normal pace.

"So what do you do when you're not studying literature?" Loki asked taking note of her posture, back straight, shoulders back and her head just ever so slightly down as though she would rather watch her feet than everything else around her.

"I do plays at the community theater whenever I can," she shrugged pulling on the black bag strap over her shoulder, "acting, dancing, whatever is needed really."

"I would love to come see one of your shows," he smiled down at her and she smiled shyly back up at him.

"That would be awesome. I haven't auditioned yet but the next production we're doing is Phantom of the Opera," she said, stepping around a mother tending to a crying child in a stroller.

"An interesting story," he thought aloud, looking down at her as they walked, "will you be auditioning for the part of Christine?"

"Oh no! I could never, I can't really sing so, I wouldn't get it even if I auditioned," she rambled, shaking her head.

"You don't know until you've tried," he said and she glanced over at him through the corner of her eye, biting her bottom lip.

"What about you? Tell me something about you," she said turning so she was walking backwards, something of a smirk gracing her lips.

"Well, there really isn't much to tell," He shrugged nonchalantly, "I just recently moved to New York, I work from home. I'm just trying to figure it all out."

She snorted, turning so she was walking beside him again, still hugging her book to her chest, "get in line."

He found himself staring at her again. Beauty was an elusive concept, people were either beautiful or they weren't and it was hard to tell exactly what made them beautiful. All he knew is when he looked at her beautiful was all he saw, scars and all.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" She asked frowning over at him, peering up at him through her glasses.

She wasn't really used to people like him, sure lots of guys talked to her but none of them just stared at her, and if they did they rambled while they did it. She wasn't sure why either, she never had considered herself pretty, mostly because of her scars.

"I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable," he laughed bashfully, running a hand through his hair, "but you're a very beautiful woman Findabhair."

She stopped suddenly her eyes going wide as she looked up at him and her cheeks burned a deep pink, her jaw going slack.

Fin opened her mouth as if to speak but nothing came out so she quickly closed it again, biting down hard on her back teeth, causing her jaw to bulge slightly.

"It was very nice talking to you Fin," he smiled taking her hand gingerly in his and placing a soft, feathery, warm kiss on her knuckles, "and I look forward to talking again."

He held her hand a moment longer before walking away and he smiled to himself, letting his posture loosen a bit.

This time he was the one walking away, and she was the one slack jawed and speechless. This was turning out to be a rather fun game, and not many could actually play back.


	4. Chapter 4

Fin wasn't at the park on Wednesday.

Loki couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy though he tried to reassure himself he was simply early. Though a quick glance at his watch didn't help.

He wasn't early; in fact he was there when he always came. He frowned; it seemed colder than normal today.

Loki made his way to the café where she worked on Wednesday, and found the blond pixie woman, Lynn behind the counter.

"Hey you, have you seen Fin, she's late," Lynn asked as he approached the counter and he felt another wave of unease.

"I came here to ask you if you'd seen her," he said honestly and Lynn pursed her lips thinking for a moment then went rather pale.

"Excuse me for a moment," she breathed, pulling out her phone and dialing quickly pressing the phone to her ear.

"Finny? Where are you, your boyfriends here loo-" she trailed off her face scrunching up as she listened to Fin.

"Oh," she whispered, glancing over at Loki and chewing on her bottom lip, "do you need anything, I can't leave but your boy is here I can send him out."

Loki didn't necessarily like the fact Lynn was talking about him as though he wasn't there but he waited patiently.

"Alright will do, I'll talk to you later okay?" Lynn hung up and turned to Loki all business suddenly and Loki blinked down at her.

"This is her address," Lynn scribbled something down on a piece of paper and shoved it at him, "go check on her okay? She's being weird."

Loki took the piece of paper and nodded slowly, "sure thing," he said and waved hurrying out of the café and into the cold.

It wasn't far of a walk from the café, and he stopped on her fifth floor loft, blinking at the door and lifting his hand hesitantly.

He chewed on his lip for a moment before knocking softly on the door, "Fin please open the door," he called.

There was a click as the door was unlocked and it slowly slid open, just enough so he could see her, and she didn't look well.

Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red rimmed and the tip of her nose was red and raw, her face unhealthily pale.

"Lynn sent you didn't she," Loki frowned down at her as her voice cracked, hoarse from he guessed crying.

"We were worried about you," he said and she sighed closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against the door.

"I'm just… having a bad day," she said looking up at him and he felt an overwhelming urge to comfort her, to hold her and tell her everything was okay to protect her.

For some reason just admitting it seemed to push her over the edge and she turned away, hanging her head as her eyes welled with tears and she bit down on her bottom lip as a lump formed in her throat.

Without thinking he reached out wrapping his arms around her and holding her against his chest, one hand going up to her hair and the other resting on her back.

She went rigid and then melting into him, her hands gripping his jacket as she leaned against him, her body trembling against him as she cried into his chest.

He managed to move her inside, closing the door and dropping down on her couch, holding her in his lap as she cried.

Loki held her, whispering soft, and low in her ear, cooing to her gently, running his fingers through her hair, and over her arms.

He held her until she stopped trembling, until she was still except for the deep, steady rise and fall of her chest.

She was asleep, her lips slightly parted, her eyes closed and face relaxed, utterly vulnerable, innocent, and peaceful.

It was strange, holding her frail frame against him, holding her in his arms, comforting her from whatever hurt her.

Strange that she had found comfort in him, strange that he had eased her sorrows, lulled her into sleep, made her trust him.

It was all new and strange and honestly, he didn't mind it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Loki blinked slowly, wincing as he lifted his head and the stiff muscles in his neck protested, scowling as he looked down.

Fin was still asleep in his lap her head resting on his shoulder and her face pressed into his neck, her breathing soft and even.

Then he remembered, the crying whispering to her, what he had said he didn't remember but holding her, reassuring her.

He looked around at what would have been a nice loft had it not been littered with papers and broken porcelain and glass.

Loki looked down at her again and blushed; she wore a pair of black shorts, and an orange tank top, neither article of clothing covering her all too well.

His blush deepened and his face burned as she blinked blearily up at him her own face going red as realization registered across her face.

"Well good morning," he breathed and she laughed nervously, sitting up and slowly sliding off of his lap her face still red.

"Stay there, just, hold on, a second," she breathed hurrying off somewhere and Loki blinked pulling off his jacket as it was suddenly warm.

She returned wearing a blue sweater and her hair had been brushed and pulled back into a pony-tail, "would you like any coffee?"

"No thank-you," he smiled and she nodded disappearing into her kitchen and he stood stretching his stiff limbs and muscles, sitting back down as she walked back into the room.

"I am really, _really_, sorry about yesterday that was," she shook her head as she sat down beside him, folding one leg under her and looking down at her cup of coffee, at a loss for words.

"Don't apologize," he said quickly and she glanced up at him to find him smiling kindly down at her, "I don't mind being a shoulder to cry on."

"Oh," she breathed rubbing her eye with her knuckles and smiling back at him sheepishly, "thanks, I guess I owe you."

He smiled down at her and she blushed again brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. He didn't know what had brought on the episode, but for right now, he didn't plan on asking.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Loki asked, glancing over at her where she sat next to him on the bench.

"I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to, but I guess I owe you the explanation," she sighed, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

"You see my dad is an alcoholic. Not kind of an alcoholic, not a little bit, a full blown alcoholic," Loki winced at the bitterness in her voice, "he was driving my brother home and a semi-truck ran a red light, and hit the passenger's side of the car. My dad survived, and my brother didn't."

Her voice broke as she talked but it seemed as though she couldn't stop the words from coming, her eyes welling with tears and jaw tightening. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, her face towards the sky.

She sat like that for a long time, just breathing, in four counts, out four counts, in four counts, out four counts.

He felt it again, the overwhelming urge to hold her, touch her, console her, make her feel okay again, feel safe.

Loki reached out; wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her arm a gentle squeeze, "I'm sorry Fin."

"Don't be," she sighed, dropping her hands into her lap and taking a deep breath, "My brother… he was my best friend, and such a good kid, smart, and handsome he had a lot going for him. It's just not fair."

Loki immediately thought of Thor, the way she spoke of her brother the affection and love in her voice caused a knot in his stomach.

"I wanted to show you something," Loki said suddenly, grabbing the sketch pad he had brought with him and handing it to her.

She blinked at him then down at the sketchpad, slowly lifting the page and gasping as she looked over the picture.

"Loki this is… beautiful," she whispered smiling slightly as she looked over the sketch. It was her, sitting on the park bench with her elbows resting on her knees and a book propped in front of her face, bundled up in winter clothes.

She continued to flip through amazed by the intricacy and time spent on each drawing, most of them were of her, others were self-portraits, twisted and distorted, and a man she didn't recognize.

"Who is he?" She asked looking over at Loki as she came to a picture of the man laughing, his eyes bright and grin arrogant but innocent.

"My brother," Loki said and she quickly looked up at him as he settled down against the bench, staring somewhere off into space.

"I made some mistakes, did some wrong things, hurt my family," Loki shrugged looking over at her, "I've lost him."

"You can't lose family Loki," she said placing a hand on his shoulder, "trust me, I've tried," she looked away again.

Bitter.

It was written across her face, laced in her voice, he could almost feel it radiating off of her, turning his own mood sour.

She pressed her head into her hands sighing deeply and rubbing her temples as they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally she straightened and handed the sketchbook back to him but he pushed it back towards her and she blinked up at him with a cute look of confusion on her face.

"I want you to keep it," he said, placing both of his hands over hers, warm and soft, "as a reminder," he whispered.

"Of what?" She asked turning her head slightly to the side, looking up at him with solemn eyes and he smiled slightly.

"Of how beautiful you are, and I'm not," he said and her face flushed and she quickly shook her head looking away.

"I think you have it backwards," she breathed and he took her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him.

Then he saw it, the strain, how hard she was trying not to cry, and he wondered if she had been fighting it the whole time.

"No," he whispered, his cool breath brushing her flushed face as he spoke, "I think I got it just right," he smiled.

That seemed to break something, knock something loose and she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

He reached out wrapping his arms around her and pulling her hard against him, closing his eyes and just holding her.

She reached around him, holding him tightly in return as her shoulders began to shake and she made small, almost silent gasping sounds as she fought back sobs, crying into his shoulder.

Loki wondered if he would feel this way if he were to lose Thor, if he were to break and cry, or hold it in or feel indifferent.

Then he wondered if this was how Thor had felt when he thought he had died falling into space the day he had been betrayed.

Loki blinked finding his own eyes damp but quickly forced the tears away, running his fingers through her hair.

She pulled away and wiped her face, taking a deep, shuddering breath and smiling weakly up at him as she tried to pull herself together.

"I have rehearsals tonight if you would like to come," she managed weakly after clearing her throat a few times.

"I would love to," he smiled watching as she stood and grabbed his hand, entwining her petite fingers with his.

"You were right by the way," she said nonchalantly as they walked side by side, smirking up at him as she gave her a confused scowl.

"I got the part of Christine."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I'm going to individually rate this chapter M for language.**

Loki called her six times in three hours and she didn't answer once.

They were supposed to meet at ten and it was now twelve-thirty and dear Findabhair was nowhere in sight.

He walked through the cold, squinting against the wind as it whipped at his face and burned his eyes, causing them to water.

Loki hurried inside ready to knock but froze as he realized the door was open ever so slightly, and he heard a voice from inside, a man's voice.

"Fin please listen to me, I-" he was cut off by something whizzing through the air and then shattering against a wall.

"Shut up! You shouldn't even be here, I should call the cops but I'm going to be nice and ask you to leave. _Again_," Loki winced, this was beyond the bitterness at the park, this was contempt.

"Just let me talk! I haven't seen you in three years and you won't give me a chance to talk?" The man snapped back but not nearly as fearsome as Fin.

"Why the hell should I? Why on Earth, should I, give a flying _fuck_ about what you have to say!" The power in her voice was terrifying and the sadness was overwhelming.

"I didn't kill your brother! That was the other driver; they killed him, why are you upset with me?" Loki felt his gut twist.

"Upset? _Upset!_ I am beyond upset, I'm fucking irate!" The below was half a sob as it rang off the walls, "this isn't about Aiden, this is about you living and him dying! You should be the one buried six feet under!"

"Findabhair please," her father whispered and Loki heard the distinct sound of knuckles against skin and bone.

"Don't you even think about trying to touch me," she hissed, and Loki stood wide eyed, the raw emotion in her voice devastating.

"What will it take for you to forgive me?" Her father breathed and she laughed harshly, a manic, panicky sound.

"Forgive you? I could never forgive you! Do you not understand? I will _never_ be okay because of you! I can never feel safe because of you!" Her voice trembled and Loki heard glass being stepped on, "I still have nightmares, wake up screaming because of you. And every time, I look in that fucking mirror, all I can see, can feel is you doing this to me. I hate you, I _hate_ you."

"It was wrong for me to do those things to you; I know that now but Fin-" he was cut off again but Loki wasn't sure what by.

"Wrong," it was a broken sob, her voice barely a whisper, "what you did to me is beyond wrong, what you did to me is unmentionable! And to do them to your daughter?"

Loki felt his insides twist into a knot so tight he felt a sudden urge to vomit as realization hit him, and he leaned heavily against the wall.

"I know I can never justify what I did, I was drunk, and angry, and your mother had just passed, and you look so much like her…" her father breathed.

"Save your breath, and get the hell out," she whimpered and then there was the crunch of feet walking over glass and the door opened.

The man looked nothing like Fin, blond hair, brown eyes, and sun kissed skin, built tall and wide where Fin was petite. He hardly looked old enough to be her father, not looking much older than thirty though Loki knew that was impossible.

He blinked at Loki, his left eye swollen, then hurried past, his head hung and his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoes clicking along the ground.

Loki hurried inside and his breath caught in his throat, his heart tightening in his chest as his gaze fell upon her.

She was kneeling on the ground, her arms bloody and wrapped around herself as though she was holding herself together, her body quaking with violent sobs, glass littered the ground around her and a frame from what had once been a mirror hung askew on the wall.

Loki rushed over, dropping to his knees beside her and wrapping his arms tightly around her from behinds, pinning her arms against her chest as if to keep her from hurting herself any further.

For once he didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say or what to feel, holding her shuddering body against his as she bawled.

He managed to get her to her feet, then scooped her up into his arms, carrying her like a child and hurrying outside as she clung to him.

Where was he going? He was taking her somewhere… he glanced down at the blood on his clothes and hands and all over her, the hospital.

The nurse blinked in shock, not so much at the blood but the woman in hysterics in his arms as she lead them inside.

He sat in the waiting room as they took her away, trying to figure out where all the blood had even come from.

People glanced at him as they walked by, giving him strange looks as they sized him up and took in the red stained on his clothes.

He didn't care, he chewed on his lip bouncing his leg up and down as he waited not necessarily nervous but, his heart was racing and the adrenaline had started and he just had to wait it out.

A very wary looking doctor walked over to him and he stood, eager to be on his feet to move, for something to happen.

"We had to sedate her just to pull the pieces of glass out of her hand. She split her hand open, gave her five stitches," the doctor sighed, "she should wake up in about an hour. You can leave as soon as she wakes up."

Loki nodded as the doctor walked away, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, murmuring quietly to himself.

Loki was right with him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Just a short story, thanks to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed!**

Loki sat beside Fin on her couch; her hand was wrapped thinly in bandages even though her stitched had stopped bleeding.

"How are your hands?" He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked over at her broken form on the couch.

"They hurt," she breathed, her eyes half lidded, her face tear stained and pallid, her petite frame seeming oddly frail.

"My scars still hurt sometimes," she whispered gently bringing a hand to her scarred cheek, "or at least I remember the pain and it feels like they hurt."

Loki looked sadly down at her; she was barely there, staring off at nothing, her voice blank and face emotionless.

"You know what I find helps pain?" He said suddenly taking her hands in his and she blushed as he ever so softly pressed his lips to her bandaged hand, then to each scarred finger.

He shifted then, placing a kiss just as tender on the scar on her cheek, and then he leaned forward, his cool lips brushing hers ever so softly.

Without thinking about it she found herself leaning into the kiss, his hands going to her hair as the kiss deepened, becoming surer.

She reached up, brushing his cheek with her fingertips, running her fingers through his hair, closing her eyes as he kissed her.

He pulled away suddenly, his lips lingering just above hers his cool breath brushing her face, "now, where else does it hurt?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Loki blinked groggily around the room. He was draped in a black sheet, in a room with walls the color of garnet.

He blinked down at Fin asleep with her head resting on his chest, and one of his arms wrapped around her small frame and realization hit him and he wasn't exactly sure what to feel.

He ran his fingers lightly over her back, which was also covered in scars, rubbing her arm and running his fingers through her rather wild hair.

She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open and she shifted then stopped, blinking up at him with a soft flush in her cheeks.

"Good morning," he breathed softly, smiling gently down at her as he continued to stroke her hair and back.

"Oh my God," she breathed her eyes going wide and her cheeks turning deep red as she buried her face into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow smiling slightly down at her in amusement as she sat up, holding the sheet to her chest as she sat the open mouthed as though wanting to say something just not knowing what.

She closed her mouth with a snap, and then buried her face into her hands, pulling her knees up to her chest and shaking her head.

"Hey," he breathed his smile fading as he sat up wrapping his arms around her and holding her against him, "what's wrong?"

"I, oh, I-I didn't, I'm so embarrassed," she whimpered still not looking at him and his smile returned and he chuckled slightly.

"Don't laugh at me," she cried, looking up at him in dismay and he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

"You're so adorable," he smiled and she stared at him in surprise her lips parting as though to say something.

"Why would you be embarrassed? It's just me," he smiled and she shook her head looking down at her hands.

"I don't know… it's because it's you," she mumbled and he gently took her face in his hands so she was facing him.

"You have absolutely no reason to be embarrassed," he whispered, kissing her softly and trailing his lips down her neck, "I promise."

She shuddered as his breath brushed her neck and she turned so she was facing him, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing him gently onto his back.

He smiled as she leaned over him, her hair hanging down and tickling his face, her eyes shining in the shadows of her hair.

Loki let out a small sound of surprise as he felt her lips on his jaw, and neck, trailing down to his collar bone and then back up to his lips.

He reached up, his fingers knotting hard in her already tangled hair, and he felt her small fingers trailing over his chest, up his neck and through his hair.

She pulled away, resting her forehead on his as they both panted her heart pounding hard in her chest as if she had just run up a flight of stairs.

"Well," he managed, barely above a breath, "this is a rather exciting way to start the day I must say," he grinned.

Fin reached up slowly, turning her head slightly to the side as she let her fingers trail across his jaw line, over his cheekbone, brushing his long lashes, trailing her index finger softly across his bottom lip.

He watched her as she touched him, exploring his face like a map, her pale eyes following her finger, stopping at his bottom lip and resting there.

She gasped in surprise as he rolled her over to he was on top of her, his hands going up to her face and searching it the way she had his.

He blinked in surprise as he pressed his fingers to her lips and, though it wasn't his intention, the slid easily inside her mouth.

Loki let out a small sound as he felt her tongue, hot and wet curl around his finger softly, teasingly and then pulling away with a pop.

She smiled at the flush in his cheeks but he quickly leaned down, pressing his lips hard and needy against hers and she smiled against his lips as her fingers ran over his back and his arms.

She was overwhelmed with the urge to touch him, to feel him cool, and smooth and hard beneath her scarred fingers.

Loki moved his lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at the skin causing a soft moan to slide through her lips and he smiled.

It had started as just a game, and now he couldn't help but feel he had won.


	8. How They Came To Be

**This is a little side story, about how Fin got her scars. Individually rated M.**

Her mother had just passed a month ago, and she was fifteen years old, her brother was nine. Reaching the age where he was independent, but not as much as he wanted to be.

Fin blinked down at her hands, flexing her fingers and staring at her nails. She had small hands like her mother, and tiny fingernails bitten down and ragged, the skin around her nails rough, and calloused.

She knew she should stop biting them or else she'd have scars on her fingers but, that was too much to ask for at the moment.

Aiden was at their aunts, which was where he spent most of his time anyway. He and their cousin were a year apart and very close.

Which left Fin alone.

She glanced over at the book on the coffee table; _Eragon_, was her latest pick but she was only about half way through it. To the point where Brom died.

Fin sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes an enjoying the silence. For a month it had been nothing but chaos in the house.

Her father had taken up drinking, her brother was to naïve to understand and she was just old enough to understand. She understood enough to yell at him when he came home drunk at least.

She used to wait till Aiden was asleep, tried to be discreet, but one night he had hit her, slapped her hard across the face and she had been shocked into tears, and ran off crying.

Now she waited until Aiden was there, because she knew her father wouldn't dare hit her when someone was watching especially not Aiden.

So when the door opened at three in the afternoon to the sound of keys, and incoherent grumbling her chest tightened and her stomach flopped.

"Fin, what are you doing home?" He grumbled blinking down at her, he was drunk, but still capable, not as drunk as she wished he was.

"It's Wednesday, we get out early on Wednesdays," she spoke without thinking, her voice coming out as something of a squeak.

"Uh," he frowned down at her, his golden hair tousled, his intense brown eyes trained on her, and the left side of his face was swollen, his bottom lip split.

"Did you get into a fight?" She asked, moving to her feet and crossing the distance between them before she could think.

She reached up, gently touching his swollen cheekbone, then running her thumb over his swollen bottom lip.

He wasn't much taller than her, only about four inches so she didn't have to reach too far, and it always amazed her how young he managed to look.

Her father might have been thirty, but he could have passed for twenty-five, people normally thought they were siblings when they were out together, which, never happened anymore.

"What the hell did you get into a fight about Jonathan?" She asked and she cringed, she sounded like her mother, in fact she could recall her mother saying those exact words.

He must have too because a strange look crossed his face just then, his eyes darkening and becoming suddenly carnal and she gasped as he grabbed her wrist, holding it tight in his hand.

"What are you-" she was cut off her eyes going wide, a feeling of panic and disgust rising in her chest as he leaned forward, and kissed her.

It wasn't the way a father should kiss his daughter, that soft, gentle kiss on the forehead to let them know they loved them. This was the way a man kissed his wife.

She yelped as suddenly her feet were out from under her and her back was pressed into the couch, his body leaning over hers.

She wanted to scream to kick to get away but her body wouldn't move and she just laid there, wide eyed and confused.

Her hands were pinned above her head and she began to feel dizzy as her lungs burned for air but his mouth was pressed hard against hers while his free hand moved over her body.

The panic rose and she let out a small cry, her body finally reacting and she squirmed under him, thrashing about.

"Dad!" She cried as she felt his hand on her zipper, and without realizing it a few stray tears had made it down her face.

He pulled away blinking down at her suddenly, his eyes suddenly clearing and he stumbled away from her.

"Fin," he breathed, running a hand through his hair and turning away, staggering over to the counter, leaning heavily against it.

She managed to get herself to her feet, gasping for air through her swollen lips, and she could feel vomit rising in her throat.

"You look so much like your mother," he breathed, panting about as hard as she was, and he turned to her suddenly, his eyes dark, "so much like her."

He stepped towards her something clutched in his hand and she stumbled back only to find a wall and she felt her heart beast fast.

He was right in front of her and she flinched as he reached down, cupping her face in his hand and she blinked in surprise as his own eyes welled with tears, "so much… too much."

She opened her mouth to say something but suddenly he lashed out and her words turned into a scream as she tumbled to the ground, her cheek feeling as though it had been split open.

He lashed out again, this time catching her top lip and she could feel the blood pouring down her cheek, running into her mouth, hot and slick and tasting of metal.

She reached up desperately, trying to guard herself and yelped as the blade sliced across her fingers, managing to hit every one, three times he sliced her hands, her fingers, and palms.

Her hands were bloody and throbbing and she couldn't take another hit so she curled in on herself but only for a moment.

She shrieked as the knife cut into her back, and her body arched, her vision going red or maybe it was just all the blood.

The knife somehow slipped from his hand and he cursed, kicking her hard in the stomach forcing the air from her lungs.

She blinked up at him, gasping desperately, tears streaming down her face and stinging her cheek. His hands were covered in blood, her blood, slick with them up to his wrists.

He blinked down at her and then stepped away, a look of horror coming across his face as he looked down at her.

Fin's hands were dripping, completely red up to her elbows, blood mixed with tears dripped down her face, and neck, and the back of her blue shirt had gone purple, sticking to her skin.

He shook his head as he stared down at his hands and then her, turning away and running, running away from her.

Her aunt found her there, curled up on the ground, pale and lifeless, unconscious from the loss of blood she had suffered.

When the police asked her what happened she told them someone broke into the house, told them they attacked her and then ran off.

She didn't know why she lied, why she lied with her father sitting right beside her, his arm wrapped around her making her sick.

And she didn't know why she hid the knife, why she didn't leave it; let them figure out who had really done it.

All she knew was that they never figured out who really did it, never figured out what had really happened, and they never found the knife.

But that didn't mean it was the end of it.


End file.
